Popping Buttons
by diva.gonzo
Summary: One-shot. Complete. Harry & Ron have been gone on a mission for 11 days and they've just returned. The witches in their life have missed them both. But since the guys need to unwind from being away, they don't head home immediately. Originally written for Taking it in Turns' Lost and Found on LJ. Rated M for Ron's mouth and plenty of lemon bits.


**A/N**: Written for the Rhr-Smutfest and Taking it in turns _Lost and Found_ fest on LJ as well as a late birthday gift for coyotelaughingsoftly, otterandterrier, and Shocolate for her birthday. I hope this is pleasing enough for everyone.

My thanks to M for the Beta, catching smoke for the visual inspiration and everyone else who added some requests. (cough writergirl8, etc.)

Finally, my Solicitor who loves the California life wanted me to remind everyone I don't own HP, GW, RW, or HG or anything else in this world. I have had good scotch and it's worth the price. – _DG_

* * *

><p>Director Robards held the three feet of parchment in his hands and scanned the pertinent details for the fourth time. It was everything and nothing he wanted in an after-action mission debriefing. The sodding bastard that they were trying to track down slipped through Auror detection once again.<p>

"So, in short, you're telling me this mission was completely cocked up."

The two men standing before him nodded in affirmation.

"You twits did everything according to procedure?" They grunted again in affirmation.

The older Auror gave the young Aurors standing at attention before him a scathing look.

"You're dismissed. I don't want to see either of your sorry arses for a week. Now get out of my department!"

Ron and Harry grinned at one another before hoisting their rucksacks over their shoulder and making their way for the doors to the department. They'd been out the last 11 days on a mission in Lincolnshire, chasing a lead on Avery, but came to the conclusion that it was a feral firecrab chase. They knew he'd been there but they couldn't find the bastard. He'd escaped once again.

"Do you need to check in with Hermione before we grab some dinner?"

The two men walked the quiet hallways of the Law service floor while ignoring everyone else.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea. She gets barmy when I'm gone for a while."

"Ginny'll be home late and she'll have to leave in the morning. You recall how Gwenog has them staying in the dorms at the location the day and night before a match. _'It's to protect you from anything that can possibly happen before a match, like getting pissed or being imperioed or even shagging your partner too hard and you can't fly right.'"_

Ron stopped and looked at Harry. "She said that?" Ron punched the button for the lift. "Takes her Quidditch seriously, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, Gwenog did and yeah, she does. So do me a huge favor and keep the house rattling down to a low roar? I don't want the bobbies coming round inquiring about strange noises coming from non-existent residences in Islington."

Ron scowled. "I don't hassle you too much who you get a leg over, do I?"

The door to the lift opened and they stepped in. Fortunately, there was no one else in the lift.

"No not anymore, not since you beat my arse during training in January." Harry gave him a sidewards glance. "You never told Robards why you beat me without a wand that day, did you?"

Ron snorted. "Wasn't his business to know. That was a family issue that _just_ happened to occur in front of everyone else."

"You could have waited 'til we got home, you prat." Harry rubbed his jaw in memory of Ron's fist impacting it that day. Had Ginny or Hermione found out about it, he'd probably have lost a bollock or two over it. "Sure did wonders for your standing in training, I reckon, seeing the _Chosen One_ get his arse beaten to a pulp." Harry snorted.

Ron grinned at the additional memory of helping his best mate up off the hardwood training floor, putting a wand to his face and healing all of the cuts, bruises, and split lip he gave him for shagging Ginny. "I never made it up to you for beating your arse that day, did I? How 'bout we go get a pint of bitter so I can show you I've forgiven you for having ill intentions towards my sister?"

"That was 10 months ago, you git."

"Yeah, but if you still remember it, you need some libations to make you forget it."

Harry looked at Ron. "Libations? Hermione has been a bad influence on you, mate."

"Well, yeah, just like I reckon I've corrupted her." The lift stopped and the metal grating opened.

Ron stepped past the open grating. "Go on and get us a table at the Leaky. I'm going to check in with Hermione and meet you there."

"Ron?"

He stopped and looked at Harry.

"Don't be smug when you get there."

Ron flipped him two fingers and walked resolutely along the hall towards the Department of Regulation of Magical Creatures.

The lift closed and hoisted Harry upwards towards the atrium. He knew it'd be at least half an hour if not even longer before Ron joined him in their corner seat at the pub.

* * *

><p>Hermione was leaning over her desk, writing frantically on the legislation that was due to go before the Wizengamot next week. She'd poured all of her anxiety into securing basic rights for Elves in the written legislation, including protocols for emancipation due to safety, abuse, or neglect, as well as transfer of service rights for those who are left behind due to death of family. It wasn't the grand emancipation she'd dreamt of but it was a small step in the right direction.<p>

A strong smell of grass, sunshine, and the testosterone made her look up from the four feet of parchment in front of her. Standing inside the open doorway to her water closet known as an office stood Ron, dressed in his grey Auror robes and uniform cloak. He looked exquisite through the exhaustion etched into his 19 year old face.

"Ron!" She jumped up from her ancient leather chair and stepped demurely around the enormous stacks of parchment cluttered around her desk. Once she was past the last pile, Hermione threw herself into his waiting arms, barely avoiding a clash of teeth that he was only too happy to reciprocate.

"When'd you get back," she breathed into his skin while he nipped the sides of her neck before returning to her cracked lips.

"Four hours ago. Debriefing with Robards is a bastard. Every lead we chased was a dead trail."

Hermione pulled her wand from her hair and pointed it at the door. Before it clattered back to her desk, it was locked, sealed, and silenced.

"Bloody hell, witch. Gagging already for me?" His questions didn't stop him grabbing two handfuls of her shapely arse and squeezing.

"Rough week, love," she whispered across his lips before pulling his ears back towards her face. Lips locked and tongues offered supplication to one another for all the moments missed that they'd never get back.

Ron stepped back for a moment to see his beautiful witch already looking slightly debauched, with her kiss swollen lips and flushed cheeks. He threw off his Auror issued uniform jacket and stepped back up to Hermione. Her hands immediately untucked his dress shirt and vest, running her hands up and down his back. She scratched her barely-there nails into his skin, earning a growl in response.

"Where's my wand?" she breathed into his clothes.

"You dropped it after locking the door." It didn't stop him from smelling the apple blossom shampoo she used when he was away.

"Sod it," she muttered. Her hands went to the front of his dress shirt and she pulled as hard as she could. Buttons flew all over her office along with her hair falling out of the bun she had it up in.

"Blimey! You've never done that before," he said in awe.

"Impatient for you," she growled back. She turned her attention to the belt buckle of his trousers and deftly opened the belt. The fastening button on his slacks flew across her office when she pulled it apart too had. He'd already removed his vest while she finished yanking down the zipper on his slacks.

"Shite, don't make me walk out of here starkers."

"I'll fix it after you've given me what I need." Her hands slid inside the pants she bought for him earlier this year and felt his impatient erection. "And right now, I need you shagging me senseless."

Ron lifted her up again and placed her shapely arse on the edge of the desk while admiring his own restraint. Any other time that he'd been out on a mission more than two days, she'd already be across the desk, being rogered to within an inch of her life.

Instead, while ignoring the coarse thoughts he was imaging, he took his time to unbutton her blouse. His hands continued to shake on each small button under his fingertips.

"Ron, you don't have to be gentle with my clothes."

He looked up from his task to see her brown eyes shining. He smiled, the one he kept just for her in times like this. "I know." He pulled the ends of her blouse aside and saw the black and orange brassiere Hermione wore on the days he returned from a mission. "You knew?"

"I guessed," She shrugged. "But I've worn this one for five straight days, hoping you'd return."

He deftly shoved the material down and freed her tits, watching the nipples tighten in the cooler air.

"Fuck it," he growled and took one in his hands and the other in his mouth. He pushed her back onto the desk finding the right pressure to make her groan in bliss.

"More," she begged.

Ron squeezed her arse one more time and fumbled with the fabric of her knickers. "They don't match," he muttered into her breast before licking the nipple.

"No, they don't, not today." She pulled his head back down between her breasts to let him continue feasting on her flesh.

"Why?" He looked up and gave her a pout.

She huffed. Sometimes he really was as thick as his dick.

"How about I get you a pair of pants, ones that ride up your terrific bum, irritate you between your cheeks for hours, all so I can appreciate your arse for the whole five seconds I see it before you start fucking me?"

Ron snorted and yanked her tan knickers down her legs, leaving it hanging on her ankle. "Good point. I don't need more wank bank material now that I'm home again."

He knelt down on top of his trousers and pants and proceeded to indulge his favorite dessert – Hermione. He didn't tease. He refused to make her beg. He was too randy to wait long, just enough to make her call his name once before he'd bury himself deep inside her. He wouldn't be worth more than a dozen strokes so he was going to make the most of it, at least for now.

**Ron!**

She gripped his hair for a second before he stood and impaled her in one hard stroke. She yelled his name again and he was most thankful that her office was magically silenced. Her epithets would have made all the ministry hags waggle their tongues over what she said. What she said when they were like this was for his benefit and no one else.

"Fuck! Missed you. Missed this." He didn't bother to wait for her acknowledgement. He wet a thumb and put it above where they were joined and rubbed roughly. "Come for me."

He lifted her hips and thrust hard again, shoving his thumb into her bundle of nerves. She clamped down seconds before his name rattled the walls of her office. He held on, pounding into her for another half dozen strokes before uttering broken words that only Hermione could understand, much less appreciate.

When his world quit spinning like a top, he opened his eyes and saw his best friend splayed out on the desk, with her tits still hanging out and her knickers hanging off her ankle. "Hi," he spoke quietly and saw her languid smile. "Just couldn't wait until we got home, I reckon."

"Don't apologize. I needed that too."

They spent quite a few minutes tidying her office, themselves, and their attire before Hermione deemed them acceptable for going out into the hallway. They exchanged a few more kisses, soft promises of hard sex for the coming weekend, and Ron opened the door.

"Wanna come with? Harry's at the pub."

"No, you go and have a pint with Harry. I've still got four more feet of parchment to write up tonight for presentation to the Wizengamot Tuesday morning."

"But you'll be home tonight?"

Hermione smiled. "Yes, love, I shall. But you'll be home before I will tonight."

Ron smiled one last time before he slipped out of her office.

Hermione kept the smile on her face until the door closed behind Ron. At the door click, she collapsed onto the desk. "How am I supposed to write another 4 feet after that?" She looked around her office and sighed.

* * *

><p>Ron pushed open the door to the Leaky Cauldron. It wasn't terribly late but then he'd left Harry cooling his heels for almost an hour. <em>Don't be smug,<em> he berated himself. _Sod it. He'd be smug with me, the specky git._

He walked through the open area, passing various tables and benches. Some saw Ron and waved in polite greeting. Others saw the flaming red hair and grey uniform that clashed and shied away from acknowledging his presence. A witch or two tried to wave him over but he wasn't interested in a few additional moments of polite company.

He stopped at the bar and had a pint thrust in his hand. "Harry already paid for it."

"Bastard," he grumbled under his breath before making his way to the darker corner where they could both watch the openings to Diagon Alley. Sure enough, Harry was there with two opened packets of biscuits before him.

"I wasn't gone _that_ long, you git."

"No, you weren't but I was hungry." Harry bit into the last biscuit. "But now that you're here, Hannah'll bring the dinner I ordered for both of us."

"So what'd you order?" Ron tipped back the pint and grimaced. "Gah, that is bitter." He took another drink and pulled a second face. "We'll have to tell Aberforth this batch is stronger than his last one."

"She said the cottage pie tonight was the best she's made. So I ordered a whole one for both of us, and a mountain of chips since you like them here." Harry ignored Ron's complaints and ate another biscuit.

Ron took a third drink and wiped the foam from his upper lip. "I dunno how Hannah does it but they taste so much better than what Kreacher does with the potatoes. I'll eat his chips but they just don't taste quite the same."

"Here you are, one whole cottage pie and an extra plate of chips for Ron."

Harry and Ron looked at Hannah. She looked happy this evening serving them. "Neville will be home Saturday, so we're told." Ron was too busy cutting a huge slice for his dinner. "But you didn't hear that from us." Harry smiled at Hannah's smile.

"Good. I've missed him these last 2 weeks."

"Yeah, they've been running us all ragged this month. Hate that they sent him to Northern Ireland to chase a lead."

"I'm not worried. He's got his DA coin and tells me daily he's OK."

Ron finished his first mouthful of pie and grinned. "Tastes great, Hannah. And it was nice of Hermione to make you a set, just for the two of you."

"She knows better than everyone about missing the ones you love." Hannah smiled and walked back towards the bar.

"She's talking about their last year at school, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Ron said and shoved a chip into his mouth. "You've still got yours, right? The one she made you and Ginny?" Ron shoved another chip into his mouth. "She would write and tell me how sick with worry she was, for both of us. That's where she got the idea." Ron smiled. "I love the idea, that the couple in question would know their loved one was thinking about them, much less still alive. George is still working out the rights with the Aurors and with the Ministry. Using coins minted 'cept for currency is still frowned upon."

"Didn't Hermione give you one?"

Ron's ears flushed bright red. "Yeah, she did."

"So where is it?" Harry asked.

"Where's yours, Harry?"

Harry opened the second button of his dress shirt and showed off the galleon on the chain around his neck. "I keep it on only when I'm out on a mission."

"But won't you lose it?"

"With this," Harry motioned to the holster attached to his arm, "I'm never losing it." Harry gave Ron a particular look. "So where is yours?"

Ron avoided Harry's eyes and mumbled into his plate.

"Speak up, Ron. I can't hear you."

Ron looked at his best mate across the table from him. "I said, you twat, that I promised Hermione mine wouldn't come off." Ron pulled his wand and pointed it at his chest.

"What, I don't see anything."

"You can't see shite even with your glasses. Hold on, you git." Ron pulled the open the button from his shirt and Harry saw it: the galleon was impressed into his skin. "Blimey, that's a galleon and it looks like a tattoo. That had to hurt, right?"

Ron buttoned back up quickly before pointing the wand back at himself and muttering the charm again.

"I didn't want it on a chain where it'd get tangled onto something or pull tight on my neck." His ears burned and Harry gulped in realization. "So Hermione had an idea: Why not put a simple sticking charm onto the coin and onto my skin?" Ron shoved another chip into his mouth. "I got the idea when I saw the locket scar on your chest."

"My scar inspired you to let Hermione do magic on you, and imbed a galleon into your skin?"

"Yeah, well, it works. I keep it covered, like regulations require, and she's close to my heart. I feel it grow warm anytime she puts her finger on hers." Ron looked at his fork and instead reached for his refilled tankard of bitter ale. "We'd talked about a tattoo, on my chest, above my heart, infused with liquid gold so it'd be a permanent charm but she nixed the idea. She said it was too close to what those bloody sods had on their arm. She said that I didn't need a tattoo to prove to her that I loved her. I didn't have to have a mark on my skin to show how brave I am. Instead, we came up with this."

"Does it burn if she keeps contact too long?"

"Nah. You know Hermione. She loathes the idea of hurting anyone unless they betrayed her, or you."

Harry pulled a face at the improper thought he had. A graphic image crossed his mind and he shoved it hard and focused on the witch who would be awaiting him at home.

Harry watched Ron tuck back into another portion of their dinner and they settled into a relaxing silence.

"Ron?" Harry took a last drink from his tankard before waving at Hannah at the bar.

"Yeah?" Ron shoved another chip into his mouth.

"Your bird is good for you."

Ron picked up his and tilted it towards Harry. "Yeah, and I reckon yours has done you some good, too."

"You think they know what all we go through when we're out on a mission?"

Ron pulled a face and showed his chagrin. "You honestly think I want to tell Hermione all the shite we see when we're out there? She'd go barmy and burn herself up trying to help everyone."

Hannah came over to check on the men. "You two planning on staying?"

"We'd thought about it. Been out for 'bout 11 days and the girls won't be home for a while."

"I'll bring more bitter for you." Hannah left the table and went back to the bar.

"When do you think Hermione'll be home?"

"Probably late. She mentioned she had another 4 feet of parchment to write tonight for the legislation next week."

Harry looked at the battered watch on his wrist. "It's Thursday so Ginny'll be home around 10 or so."

Hannah returned with another pitcher and a plate of battered fish. "I figured you'd still be famished if you were out that long."

"Ta," Ron quipped before pouring another tankard. It'd been months since the two of them had been pleasantly pissed after a mission.

* * *

><p>A loud bang echoed through the first floor of 12 Grimmauld Place. The two witches looked at one another and understood what just happened. They stood up in unison and made their way to the front door and the probably pissed boyfriends they lived with.<p>

"You know they're pissed, right?"

"Did you expect anything less from those sods?"

The ladies made their way to the front door and stopped in the hallway. Sure enough, Harry and Ron were leaning on one another in the front hallway, chortling at some unspoken joke.

"So I told the sod behind the bar, 'Next time, stun the chicken!'"

Harry fell backwards into the support wall of the stairs, giggling. "You're hilarious!"

"That's what I get for listening to Fred and George too long, growing up."

Ginny and Hermione looked at one another and silently conversed what to do with the men in their lives.

"Did you get lost coming home?"

Two drunk wizards turned to the irate witches standing in the hallway and looked sheepish. "Quit yer yelling. It's only a little after 11, love."

Hermione stepped forward and fixed Ron's collar on his robes. "Dear, it's almost 2am. Look at your watch again."

Ron looked at his birthday time piece. "Potter, you twat. You told me it was only 11, you sod. You need new glasses." Ron belched and the noise echoed down the hallway towards the kitchen.

"Well, is that your excuse, that you drank so much that you lost track of time?" Ginny's ire was evident in how she well she was imitating her mother.

Harry turned a brilliant shade of tomato at her stern accusation. "At least we found our way home tonight."

Ginny ignored his weak retort. "Where were you two prats?"

"Don't get shirty, Ginny." Ron scowled at his sister, trying to look menacing.

She scowled back at her brother. "I'm not but it's so late and we were worried. No note, no owl, no patronus."

"We firecalled Robards. He said you'd been off duty for hours." Hermione crossed her arms in frustration.

"We owled Hannah and she said you two gits stumbled out of there at 10pm." Ginny mimicked her stance. She stepped up to Harry and put a finger into his chest. "Hell, I even firecalled Mum and Dad and saw things that I needed Hermione to obliviate me for." Ginny shook her head. "I wanted to be shagging you tonight, you git, not seeing my parents doing _that_ on the couch at home."

Harry and Ron looked at one another and giggled harder. "That's rubbish." Ron snorted while Harry fell into a fit of giggles into his shoulder.

"Shite, please tell me you two aren't limp dicked?"

Hermione shook her head at her best friend's linguistic abilities. "Kiss your boyfriend with that mouth, why don't you?"

Ginny offered Hermione her own crass salute as Ron staggered towards. Hermione ducked under his arm and helped prop him up.

"Fancy a shag?" Ron pathetically mimicked Hermione in a fake posh accent. He chortled almost immediately. "Hear me sound like Hermione, Harry?"

"Come on, Ron. Maybe later this morning you'll –"

Ginny watched the two of them stumble up the stairs to their bedroom on the second floor and missed the rest of what Hermione said.

"And you, Potter, what were you thinking?" She crossed her arms in frustration at her boyfriend. "You know I'm due at the stadium at noon and won't be home tonight. You also know I need a shag before I leave otherwise I can't fly worth a fuck."

Harry ran his hands through his hair and made it messier than it normally was. "The mission was a complete cock up. We hunted that bastard but we couldn't find him. So we got pissed tonight." Harry stepped forward and pulled her to him, kissing her across her lips and pressing his body over her crossed arms and clothed hips.

"You're not as pissed as you let us think, are you?"

"Ron is. I quit drinking bitter three hours ago, and settled on butterbeer. Aberforth was gracious enough to let us use his Floo to get back to the Leaky."

"You went drinking in Hogsmeade? What were you ponces thinking?"

"We wanted someplace quiet to talk about the shite that happened this week. The Leaky was just too busy and folks were looking when Ron was being loud." Harry rubbed his face before looking at Ginny. His green eyes froze her. "Ron took the case harder, since he saw the mess left behind. Just trust me that he needed the night out more than I did."

She caught a wiff of his aftershave and felt her ardour grow immediately. She rubbed her thighs together without him noticing, hopefully. But she unwrapped the arms that had coiled around her body in frustration and took Harry into her arms. "But you said nothing happened."

"Nothing happened while we were there. I didn't say we didn't find out shite about that fucker, or that we didn't see some of his bloody handiwork." Harry took a deep breath. "Merlin help us, when we track that bastard down, I'll feel better about everything once he's locked in Azkaban."

"So is that why both of you went out to get pissed? Hermione and I were worried."

Harry kissed the top of Ginny's head and smelled the fragrance of his amortentia: broom polish, treacle tart, and _her._ "You're next to my heart. And I know where you are."

"But that doesn't do me any good if I don't know where _you_ are." She pulled his ears to her and kissed him. He reciprocated and pulled her hips close to him, letting her feel all of him.

"Glad you see you're not drunk dicked tonight."

His lips left her face and traveled along her neck, leaving kisses that brought goose flesh along her chest. "Not when I won't shag you rotten tomorrow night."

Patience was never her virtue. "Got your wand on you?"

"Which one, the one in my pants or the one holstered on my leg?" Harry bit her neck harder than usual. She felt her knickers grow wet instantly.

"Take me to bed, you cad."

"My pleasure, you bint."

Harry pulled her close and held his wand in his hand. He turned and they landed inside their bedroom.

Clothes flew from them frantically, even if it was mostly because of Ginny's deft hands. She reached for his glasses before he grabbed her wrists.

"Damn it, don't take off my glasses. You know I can't see your tits bounce without'em."

Ginny took off his glasses and placed them on the side table.

"Suck it up, Potter. Flying blind is your punishment tonight for coming home pissed after 1am."

Harry stumbled backwards towards the bed and landed with a thud. His cock poked through the slit in his black boxers and Ginny smiled. "Well, 'ello." She crawled over his prone body and took him in her hands, working him even further. "How's that?"

"Quit teasing me. You know what I want tonight."

"Impatient git," She muttered under her breath. She slid back off the bed and slid the knickers down her hips. Her breasts tightened in the chilly room but she'd be sweat soaked in a minute. "Can you see me?"

"I see your hair and I see the outline of your body. That's about it."

"Perfect," She replied before crawling back onto their king sized bed and straddled his stomach. "Since I'm nowhere near ready, you'll just have to use those impressive hands you have."

"Shite, I've got a better idea."

Harry pulled her legs up his chest until Ginny got the idea what he wanted. She gladly adjusted her hips to accommodate his shoulders under her knees and felt her core tighten once his tongue touched her delicate flesh. "Oh, that's so good. Oh fuck yes, suck my clit."

She writhed under his calloused fingertips and his wicked tongue. He was merciless, just like she begged him often for, and he was relentless, driving her harder than her broom ever could.

"Fuck me Harry!" she screamed before her release washed over both of them.

Ginny fell off of him and landed face first into the bedclothes. She knew that he was more than ready to make her come again. He spread her knees wide and felt him slide home in her willing flesh. "Fuck, that's fantastic. Shag me hard, Harry."

He gripped her hips and started pounding her into the bedclothes. Immediately, she felt another orgasm roll over her while he roughly thrust into her. She whined, knowing that she had one more in her and hoped that Harry could hold out a few more strokes. "Harry," she begged and knew he'd understand her needs.

His hand reached through her curls and found her clit. One calloused finger pressed into the bundle of nerves before she felt the last orgasm wash over her. "Ohshiteharryfuck!"

He pulled her hips hard and froze, calling her name like a cherished prayer.

He fell into the bedclothes and pulled her to him, nestling his spent cock between her cheeks. "It takes more than just too much drink for me to lose my lust for you."

"I'm glad your wand was working tonight."

"I'm glad you stayed up for me."

Even with sweat cooling on them and a mess on the bedclothes, Harry and Ginny fell asleep at half 2 on a Friday morning.

* * *

><p>Hermione shook her head at her best friend's linguistic abilities. "Kiss your boyfriend with that mouth, why don't you?"<p>

Ginny offered Hermione her own two fingered salute as Ron staggered to the stairs with his girlfriend propped under his arm.

"Fancy a shag?" Ron pathetically mimicked Hermione in a fake posh accent. He chortled almost immediately. "Hear me sound like Hermione, Harry?"

"Come on, Ron. Maybe later this morning you'll be up for it. I bet you'll be passed out in five minutes once we get upstairs."

"No I won't," he whined while they stumbled up the stairs to their bedroom on the third floor.

"Yes, you will. Your drinking after missions bothers me. I know you struggle after some missions, but there are better ways to get a handle on your emotions besides drinking to excess, getting pissed with Harry notwithstanding."

"But the mission was a complete waste of time and utterly fucked up," he groaned when he stumbled into the door jamb of their bedroom.

Hermione stopped and pushed him into the door and put a finger under his chin. "Being out 11 days on a blown mission is no excuse to drink to excess as a coping mechanism. You know better ways to deal with this. That's why you play pickup Quidditch with the other Aurors. That's why you go running in training. That's why you play chess. Those are healthy ways to get a handle on the stress, not getting pissed."

"It was just a once-off." Ron held his hands up in surrender. "Honest. It's been months since I've done this!"

Hermione stopped her harangue mid-thought. He was right. It had been months since the last time he'd been well and truly pissed, and not just a butterbeer with Harry and the rest.

"You're right. I should trust that you know better. I'm sorry." She ducked her head while waiting for him to berate her for her presumption.

"Hey, stop that." He pulled her face up to see the smile on his. "None of that, not when I'm randy for you."

"Ginny might be completely crass, but if you're that inebriated, I doubt you'll be awake long enough to shag me."

Hermione reached past Ron's hip and turned the handle to open the door to their room. He followed the door and slid inside first, followed by her. She turned to close the door and he pressed her into the oak wood.

"Does this feel like I'm too pissed to shag you?"

Hermione wiggled her bum in response.

"You're still going to pass out as soon as your bum hits the bed."

"Yeah?" He leaned over and nuzzled her ear.

"Yeah, and it's going to leave me frustrated. My hands aren't your hands."

Ron gently nipped the side of her neck while running his hands down the front of her body. "So you're saying you like my hands, yeah?" He pressed his thumbs into the fabric of her jumper and felt her nipples tighten immediately.

"My hands just don't quite get the job done." She melted into his lanky body with bliss.

His hands divested her of her sleep trousers, leaving her standing before him in a pair of green knickers. "When'd you get these?"

"I picked… them up last… time we went… shopping." She was quickly losing coherent thought with Ron's hands working their magic on her breasts under her jumper. "Ron," she whined as he toyed with her.

"Want me to pass out yet?"

"You do before I get satisfaction and I'll hide the hangover potions in the morning."

"You wouldn't," He stopped his hands.

"Then you better get busy, I reckon." She looked over her shoulder at him and grinned.

Ron tore his boots off first before stripping out of the rest of his robes in lightening fashion. He did watch Hermione give him a look up and down as he bounced merrily while trying to pull his socks off. "Oh, dear. I hope that you're not spent yet."

Ron looked up from his feet where he pulled the offending sock off and gave Hermione a dirty look. "Come here, you cheeky witch. I'm not snoring yet."

Hermione strolled to the bed and stood before Ron. He fell back onto the edge of the bed and put his hands on her hips. One long finger wrapped the material around his knuckle and he pulled the soft material down her hips and still too thin legs.

"No, you don't but you still stink of Firewhiskey."

She stepped out of her knickers and saw him leering at her. "I don't think you'll mind my breath tonight."

Ron leaned back on the bed and pulled Hermione with him. She fell onto his body and felt his whisky soaked lips attack her, snogging her breathless. "No, I don't think you'll mind this at all." Ron lifted Hermione up just enough and used his hands to move her around. She realized what at he had in mind and moved to accommodate him. She moved her feet back, touching the headboard, while using her hands to build his excitement. The fabric of his pants didn't hinder her, not with her small hands.

She wrapped her hands around him while using her tongue to drive him mad. She took him in her mouth while humming, taking as much of him as possible. Ron had gifts that she couldn't take full advantage of but he never complained what she did for him.

A rogue hair got caught in her teeth and she discretely removed it without being noticed. She returned to her task, working her hands in harmony with her mouth. Even the wool of her jumper sensitized her nipples, scratching just so on her skin to drive her around the twist.

Hermione lost focus almost immediately and broke the rhythm of her hands. Someone moaned in the room but she couldn't be bothered to realize who did it. Ron's touch and taste was mind blowing, just like every time he touched her this way. She loved that he would do this, just for her, and that she could _just feel_ instead of thinking and overanalyzing everything they did.

From what she learned in listening to the other girls that last year of school, Ron was a tender lover. She'd thank her time turner for it ten times over, given the chance.

Hermione felt the coil low in her belly tightening but fought to focus her attention on the part of Ron wiggling in front of her face. She used her hands to twist and move, ignoring what she was doing but moving strictly in rote and repetition. All that mattered was what his fingers, lips, and tongue were doing to her.

Her mind went blank while her body started to quiver under Ron's assault on her core.

_Bloody hell, oh lord! _**Ron!**

Her mind went blank while her limbs shuddered in blinding white pleasure.

Hermione felt vibrations and only guessed that Ron was laughing at her, in the middle of their foreplay.

"Ow!"

"Sorry love," Ron chuckled while she was still poised above his face. "Didn't mean to nip you so hard."

Hermione took her hands off his manhood and moved down his body. "Hermione, what are you doing?"

She ignored him in her haze and moved down the incredible length of his body and lifted her hips up.

"Oy! I can't kiss you if you're down there."

"Shut it," she slid down on him and sighed in bliss. "I'm trying something different." She thrust her hips once before lifting almost off of him and slammed back down on him.

"Hermione! Oh fuck!"

Hermione tucked her feet closer to his hips and lifted her bottom quite a few inches before slamming back down on his hips. An increasing babble of broken words and potential epithets echoed in the room. She ignored his crass words, focusing on lifting her hips and slamming back down on him. It was rather awkward and made her knees ache but she'd contemplated this position for a while, ever since she accidentally walked in on Ginny and Harry some months back while they were shagging on the table.

She lifted her hips another half dozen times or so before stopping. "Still want me up there?"

"Fuck no. Keep going."

She looked over her shoulder and saw him propped up on his hands, watching her arse intently. "Are you watching my," Hermione blushed hard, "watching my arse?"

"Well, yeah. It's fantastic.

She shrugged. "Suit yourself," she murmured and proceeded to beat his hips into the bedclothes.

Ron's imagination took over, watching her arse giggle on each downward thrust of her hips. He could only imagine her tits doing the same thing.

"Love your arse." Ron ran his oversized hands up and down her back, using what little nails he did possess along her spine. She quivered under his nail scrapes and fingers along her spine. He babbled nonsensically in appreciation for his witch.

"Didn't realize how much I'm getting off watching you like this. Wish we had a mirror so I could watch your tits bounce."

"You feel amazing like this," she said breathlessly. Hermione kept bouncing on his hips as Ron ran his hands over her body. She cursed under her breath. "Mirror is in my room since we broke it once already shagging on the dresser."

Hermione's rhythm was growing erratic but Ron kept lifting her arse just so he could see her fall back down onto his cock. He knew he was about to finish but the show was just too amazing. "Oh shite!" Ron groaned and grabbed two handfuls of hips and helped her rise higher and fall harder on his hips. "Not gonna last, love."

"Yes you will!" She pulled one of his hands free and moved it where she needed him most. "Move!"

"Bossy," he growled and did as she commanded of him. "Yes, bounce that arse for me, witch. Make me come!" His other hand moved to one of her tits and pulled it hard.

Hermione moaned louder than the ghoul ever did. Her head fell back and her hair tickled his stomach.

"No you don't , not yet!" He lifted her a few more times before he felt the band in his bollocks snap. He thrust up as hard as he could while she was virtually immobile, watching her head roll further back. "Ohfuckhermioneshite!"

Ron fell back into the rumpled bedclothes in exhaustion. "Merlin's wanksocks, that was bloody brilliant!"

Hermione rolled off his hips and fell into the bedclothes beside him. "Wow."

"That's it? Wow."

Hermione's panting wasn't interrupted.

"That was bloody fucking fantastic and all you say is _wow._ It must have been a good shag for you to be struck speechless."

Hermione continued to pant.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

Hermione lifted her head from the bedclothes and gave Ron one glassy-eyed look. "I dunno about you, but I'm tired." Her head hit the bed with a congratulatory finale for the night.

"Hrmph. And I'm the one who you said would be passed out already."

She lifted her head again and vainly moved further up the bed and under the bedclothes. "But I'm the one who did all the work tonight."

Ron watched her fall off to sleep almost immediately.

"And I'm glad you did," Ron said to himself before turning out the lights in their room and falling asleep next to the love of his life.


End file.
